


Cut Adrift

by Talis_Borne



Series: Nimueh’s Spell [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Knows, Bromance, Canon Divergence, Gen, Morgana Attacks, post series 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-02 13:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talis_Borne/pseuds/Talis_Borne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stung by Uther’s revelations and the realization that Merlin really is a sorcerer, Arthur struggles to cope with the intrusions magic has made on his life, including Morgana’s continuing attempts to usurp the throne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Nimueh’s Spell uses Merlin series 1-3 as cannon and ignores the events of successive series, though I do pick up Agravaine from series 4.
> 
> I don’t own the rights to the Merlin TV series and I’m not intending to make any money off these stories. This is strictly for sharing between friends.
> 
> Thanks to Res for beta reading and encouragement!

"We'll camp here," said Arthur, nodding to a clearing just off the road. The clearing was a well used camping spot with a firepit already set up and the running water of a creek clearly audible through the trees. 

"Are you sure, Arthur?" asked Leon hesitantly, as the knights began to dismount. "If the King sends a messenger to recall you, we'll be easily found." 

"If Uther sends a messenger to recall me, I'll send him back with a message that will make my Father's ears burn," growled Arthur. "I will not be treated like a child." 

Merlin thought about asking Arthur if his head hurt, but thought better of it and went in among the trees to gather firewood instead. Arthur hadn't been very drunk when they'd left, more angry, and hours in the saddle were more likely to relax Arthur than to leave him sore, unlike Merlin who was definitely feeling the ride. Merlin grabbed up the first tinder he could find and hurried back to the clearing just in time to hear Arthur apologizing to Lancelot. 

"It's forgotten, Arthur," answered Lancelot. 

"You offered your help and I answered with insult. I was far out of line," insisted Arthur. 

Lancelot assured him, "The offer is still good, if you were serious." 

Arthur pulled a face as he watched Merlin building up the fire. "Unfortunately, I was. Merlin is going to have to learn the skills of a knight. I think that might prove to be a little like trying to teach a horse to dance." 

"I've actually seen that," said Gwaine, chomping on an apple he'd pulled from his saddlebag. "It was very impressive. Smart horse." 

"Hey, share," said Percival, grabbing at Gwaine's apple. 

Gwaine ducked him. "There are berries along the creek bank. I can see them from here." 

"Yeah, and all green," said Percival, still cheerily menacing Gwaine. 

Elyan dumped an armload of wood next to Merlin. 

"Thanks," said Merlin, surprised to get any help. 

"I want my dinner," grinned Elyan, "I'm not above gathering a bit of wood to help that along." 

Merlin grinned at him and got on with his work. When he'd dished up for all of the knights and was about to get his own meal, Arthur interrupted, "Have you seen to the horses yet, Merlin?" 

Merlin grimaced and was about to protest when Lancelot replied, "I took care of them, Arthur." 

"That's Merlin's job," said Arthur frowning at the knight. 

"When you're not with us, we have to take care of our own," said Lancelot reasonably. "You said you wanted Merlin trained as a knight. There's enough light left for a lesson, but not if we're waiting for him to finish all of the camp chores on his own. No reason for all of us to laze about if there's something better to do." 

Merlin suddenly lost his appetite, but scooped his dinner into his mouth without tasting it anyway. When the dishes were all piled up, Merlin made to grab them up to wash them, but Gwaine stopped him and dragged him to his feet. Merlin looked around the clearing at faces that looked far too merry at the idea of teaching him something. Only Arthur looked a bit sour. Merlin ducked his head in embarrassment at the prospect of being the entertainment for the evening. 

Gwaine placed his own sword in Merlin's hand and Lancelot began showing Merlin basic stance and sword positions. Merlin did his best to copy Lancelot's movements but everything he did felt awkward and unnatural. Gwaine stepped up behind Merlin and began pushing his arms and shoulders into the proper positions. "There, can you feel the difference?" asked Gwaine. 

"No," complained Merlin, the tweaking Gwaine had done making him feel even more unbalanced. 

"Come on, Merlin," called Percival. "You can do better than that. Arthur must have taught you something all these years." 

"Arthur doesn't teach me anything," protested Merlin. "He just bashes at me and expects me to block." 

"Stop, stop, stop," said Leon. He'd been sitting far off to the side, but now came to give his input, frowning in concentration. 

Merlin dropped his arms, feeling hopeless. 

"Give me that," said Leon, taking the sword out of Merlin's hand and giving it back to Gwaine. "Stand up straight." 

Merlin barely raised his chin. 

"I said straight, Merlin," insisted Leon. Merlin shifted, but Leon still frowned at him. "Well, I have seen worse." 

"What's wrong with the way I stand?" 

"Your toes are supposed to point forward, for one thing. It's no wonder you fall down so much." Leon took hold of the top of Merlin's arms and said, "Put your toes up against mine and your feet straight in line with mine." 

Merlin did, but bumped his head into Leon's chest. Someone grabbed his shoulders from behind and yanked, then switched their right hand between his shoulder blades and shoved. Merlin's head snapped up with a grunt in reaction. 

"Better," said Leon. "Arthur, if you really want Merlin trained as a knight, you'd better let us handle it for a while. You're used to refining technique, not teaching basics. I've taught enough arms men straight off the farm to recognize the problems." 

"I'm not that bad," cried Merlin. 

"No, you're worse," spat Leon. "You've been using a sword and shield for far too long without knowing what you're doing and you've developed bad habits. Those will have to be trained out of you. And you're so used to abasing yourself as a servant that I didn't even realize how tall you are. Just getting you to stand up straight is a challenge, though come to think of it, I've seen you straighten out when you run, so I suppose it isn't hopeless." 

Arthur paced over to join the tightening knot of knights. "Do you honestly think you could turn Merlin into a knight?" he asked Leon, incredulously. 

"Given enough time," replied Leon, his shoulders shrugging under the weight of that responsibility. 

"Good," said Arthur, but his frown stayed in place, "I'm in no hurry." 

The knights glanced at each other sidelong. Elyan asked, "Arthur, are you going to explain any of this?" 

"No," said Arthur shortly. He bowed his head and raised his fingers to his temples. 

Merlin stepped up to him and placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Arthur…" 

Arthur batted his hand away violently. "You just attend to your lessons. I don't know what else I'm to do with you." Arthur turned away from his friends. Putting his back up against a tree at the edge of the clearing, he sagged down until his arms rested on the points of his knees and his head lay on his arms. 

Leon took Merlin by his shoulders and pulled him into the road, well away from Arthur. The other knights surrounded them. Gwaine spoke in a voice not intended to carry. "I'll ask if no one else will. What the hell did Uther do?" 

Merlin kept his head bowed and wouldn't meet their eyes. "You wouldn't believe me even if I could tell you." 

"What, did Uther use magic?" joked Gwaine. 

Merlin pursed his lips tightly and crumpled his nose. 

"Uther used magic?" yelped Gwaine in a whisper. 

"I didn't say that," hissed Merlin. "And I'm not saying it." 

"You're not denying it either," rumbled Percival. 

Merlin muttered through gritted teeth, "Let's just say it's that serious and leave it at that. If Arthur wants you to know, he'll tell you." 

"Fair enough," said Leon with a warning look to the other knights. Then he smacked Merlin on the shoulders and said, "Straighten up." 

"We're back to that again, are we?" complained Merlin. 

"The only thing I can do for Arthur right now is obey his orders and see that what he wants done, gets done," said Leon reasonably. "Come on, I'll make it fun for you. Race you to the bend in the road and back. Loser does the dishes." 

"Since when can you wash a dish?" asked Gwaine, clapping Leon on the back. 

"I did my time as a squire and as a page. Believe me, I can clean." 

"That I want to see," opined Percival, scratching a line across the dirt road with his foot. The knights began to holler and encourage and to Merlin's surprise, they all seemed to be rooting for him. He glanced at Leon in embarrassment, but the knight grinned at him and he grinned back. 

Each put a toe on the line and Elyan started the race, "Ready, set, go!" 

Neck and neck they raced down the road, dust flying from under their footsteps. At the bend they looked at each other, not having set an exact turning point before the race, they bumped shoulders trying to flip around at the exact same moment. Then back they flew, still shoulder to shoulder, the dust from the first leg stinging their eyes. Leon managed to get a toe over the line an instant before Merlin and both trampled past, getting caught in hands that reached to congratulate or commiserate. 

"All right, next time we do that, I take off my armor," panted Leon. 

"Leon's right though, Merlin, you do straighten out admirably when you run," said Lancelot. 

"Too bad you couldn't beat him," Elyan teased, "Percival isn't the only one who'd liked to see our high born knight clean something." 

Leon's eyes twinkled. "If you'd like to race, I wouldn't mind a bet to see who ended up cleaning whose armor." The knights ooo'ed and encouraged but Elyan demurred. 

"Well, I wasn't properly motivated," Merlin joked, his hands on his knees as he regained his breath. "There wasn't anything chasing me that wanted to eat me this time." He straightened and his demeanor drooped as he spotted the bedroll on the far side of the fire. Arthur was wrapped up tight and facing away from the knights. The knights quickly caught Merlin's mood and the cause of it. 

"This just isn't like Arthur," said Leon seriously, who'd known the Prince for by far the longest. "I'm too keyed up to sleep. I'll take first watch." 

"Second," offered Gwaine quickly, no joke in his tone now. 

"Dawn," declared both Elyan and Percival at the same time, but Elyan claimed it. 

Merlin stepped past Arthur, watching his face. Arthur's eyes were too tightly closed for him to be truly asleep. Merlin reached for the dishes, but Percival blocked his hand. 

Percival brought his mouth close to Merlin's ear. "Since I don't have a watch, I'll do these. You're the only one who knows what's going on. Stay near to Arthur." 

"Thank you," breathed Merlin. He quickly got his bedroll and dossed down by Arthur. It wasn't a moment before Arthur rolled over, turning his back to Merlin. 

***********************

Arthur's party turned off the main road about two leagues before the border of Lot's kingdom. Arthur irritably noted where the brush obscured the side road leading to the garrison down to the size of a trail, forcing the knights to ride single file. Then the trees opened up to reveal a grassy hilltop. A low stone wall was still in the process of being built, in many places the wall was still low enough to be vaulted over easily. Men worked along it placing stones and mortar. Guards stood at intervals along the wall. Arthur's party was recognized as being knights of Camelot and the wooden gates of the garrison swung open for them. 

Within the wall lay several long one storied wooden buildings with thatched roofs and the foundations of a keep. Everyone from knight to craftsman stopped work to observe the newcomers. 

"Prince Arthur," called a knight with long graying blond hair, stepping forward briskly. The knight motioned to some of the guards men to take the party's horses and men ran forward to obey the unspoken command. 

Arthur alighted and greeted the knight with an outstretched hand. "Sir Botalf." 

Well pleased at such a greeting, Sir Botalf heartily grasped Arthur's forearm. "To what do we owe the honor, my Lord?" 

The rest of Arthur's party dismounted and gathered behind him. "I came to see your progress, Sir Botalf. I believe this garrison will be an important one in the coming years." 

"It's too bad the King does not share your belief, Highness," said Botalf, the pleasure of Arthur's arrival leaving his eyes. "He's already called half my masons back to Camelot. Lot sent over a sally party about a week ago that killed several more. It's the skilled workmen they went for and I've none to spare." 

Arthur looked around at the half finished wall and the barely started keep. "This garrison can defend nothing in its present shape. Lot looks fair to keeping to Cenred's ways and Cenred attacked Camelot twice. We need this garrison." 

Botalf nodded agreement. "Come to my quarters and we'll discuss it. Perhaps you can convince the King. I know that I can not." Botalf suddenly noted a man climbing down from his post on top of the gate. "You there, return to your post!" 

The man instead ran up to Arthur and dropped to his knees before him. "Mercy, my Lord!" he cried. 

"For leaving your post?" asked Arthur disbelievingly. 

"Not for me, Sire, for another," begged the guard. "I'd gladly take my punishment ten times over if you will save him." 

"What did the man do?" demanded Arthur sternly. 

"Fell off a ladder, Sire, when it broke," said the guardsman desperately. "He took a shard of it in his leg. The wound is infected. I saw a medicine bag on one of your horses. Please Sire; do you have a healer with you?" 

"A healer?" asked Arthur, mystified. He looked towards the horses. 

Merlin stepped through the knights to Arthur's side. Blushing he said, "Gaius made me bring his medicine bag." 

"Why?" asked Arthur. 

"He was worried," said Merlin in a low voice. 

"Oh, like I'd let you treat me for anything," growled Arthur. 

Merlin glared at him. "I've pulled more than one arrow out of you, Arthur." 

"There's nothing to be done anyway, Highness," said Sir Botolf, glaring disapprovingly at Merlin. "The man is all but dead." 

Gwaine spoke up. "In that case, Merlin can't do him any harm. Let him try, Arthur." 

"If you want," Arthur said in a bemused voice, motioning permission to Merlin to go. 

Merlin grabbed the medicine bag off his horse and followed the arms man, who urged him on, into one of the barracks. Gwaine followed along. Inside the barracks was little more than bare dirt floor and a fireplace. A heap of blankets lay in one corner, with the sound of heavy breathing. No windows allowed light in. 

"Leave the door open, will you Gwaine?" asked Merlin, dropping down by his patient and checking for his pulse. 

Gwaine blocked the door open with some stones and then came to watch what Merlin did. 

Merlin felt the man's forehead for his temperature, then pulled back the blankets to look for the wound. He unwrapped an inexpertly applied bandage and examined the pussy red hole in the man's calf. Red streaks had started up his leg, but extended no more than an inch from the gash. 

"Well?" asked Gwaine. 

"Well," said Merlin, "he's not as bad off as Sir Botolf thinks. He's not dying yet despite the fever." 

"Can you save him, Sir?" asked the arms man anxiously. 

"I'm no knight," corrected Merlin absently. "I'll need clean bandages, some towels, a couple of bowls, a kettle of hot water and some candles if you can get them. It's too dark in here." 

The arms man looked up at Gwaine, who, annoyed to be looked to for permission, said sharply, "Get Merlin what he needs." As the man skittered out the door, Gwaine asked, "Can you really save him?" 

"I can try," replied Merlin. "It's not gangrene, thank God. The infection is just beginning to spread, hopefully not too far for a poultice to draw it once the wound has been drained." Merlin opened the medicine bag and started organizing the various herbs he'd need. "I'll need someone to hold him for me. I can keep him asleep but I'll have to lance the wound and he's going to feel it even so." 

"I can do that," said Gwaine. 

"I was hoping you'd offer." Merlin flashed him a quick grin in thanks. 

***********************

Merlin knocked at the door to the commander's quarters and stepped in when permission sounded through the door. He ducked his head at Arthur, but more in deference to Sir Botalf. He'd caught the knight's attitude towards him earlier and had no doubt Sir Botalf thought he'd gotten above his place. Merlin backed up against a wall, trying to be invisible as a good servant should. Arthur and Botalf were looking over plans and finishing up their discussions of what was needed to make the building of this garrison go faster; neither man paid Merlin any attention for a time. 

When Arthur did notice him, his first question was if Merlin had seen to the horses. 

Merlin answered him deferentially, so as not to annoy Sir Botalf. "Yes, Sire. Your things are in the knights' bunkhouse. There's only the one room for everyone to share, but I put clean sheets on the bed." 

Botalf quickly spoke up. "You should take my quarters, Sire." 

Arthur deferred. "If someone comes looking for the commander, they should find you here. I slept on the ground last night. Any bed will be welcome tonight." Stretching his back, Arthur quirked a wry smile at Merlin. "How's your patient?" 

"With your permission, I'll take my bedroll in and sleep beside him tonight, but I think he'll live. Shouldn't have gotten that bad in the first place." The criticism slipped out before he could stop it and Merlin quickly bowed his head knowing that it was the wrong thing to say. 

Sir Botalf's face reddened in anger. "Highness, I am aware that you allow your servant liberties, but I am not accustomed to answering to someone far below my class." 

Arthur's voice took on a warning note. "You don't answer to him, you answer to me. If there is a problem here I want to know about it and what you are doing to address it. Merlin's very good at finding out things I might need to know." 

Sir Botalf answered carefully, "I am not aware of there being any problem other than a man being clumsy." 

"Hmm," said Arthur, leaning back in his chair. "Merlin, what did you mean just now?" 

Merlin kept his eyes on the floor. "Only that there was still a sliver of wood in the wound. Had it been removed and the wound cleaned, it most likely wouldn't have infected and the man's life need not have been in danger." 

Arthur rose suddenly, paced away and quickly back. "So why wasn't that done?" he asked Botalf. 

Botalf shrugged. "The nearest physician is Gaius. The wound was slight, it wasn't worth weakening my forces to send one man all the way to Camelot. By the time anyone realized the wound had become severely infected, he wouldn't have survived the trip." 

Merlin glared at the knight for making such a decision, but stayed silent. 

"What do you mean, the nearest physician is Gaius?" Arthur asked. "Surely there must be someone who can tend a simple injury nearer." 

"Not that I know of," replied Sir Botalf. "We had an outbreak of sweating sickness a month ago. The men tended to each other as best they could. We buried five. Luckily all of the knights pulled through." 

Arthur looked shocked. "We've had three attacks on Camelot itself in as many years, not to mention all the damage the dragon did when it escaped. We've lost far too many men, not to mention knights. We can't afford to be loosing men to stupid accidents." Frustrated, Arthur turned to Merlin. "There must be more physicians than just Gaius in the kingdom. Who would be local here?" 

Merlin looked up at Arthur. "I don't know." 

"Give me some names, Merlin," said Arthur, annoyed. 

Merlin's eyes scanned from side to side in thought. "Gaius talks about other physicians in other kingdoms sometimes. I've never heard him mention any that practice within Camelot's borders." 

"What do you do when Gaius gets sick?" asked Arthur impatiently. 

Merlin shrugged. "Whatever he tells me to." 

"And if he couldn't tell you? Who would you go to?" persisted Arthur. 

"I'd probably tend him myself." 

"But if you needed help?" demanded Arthur. 

Merlin pursed his lips. He couldn't tell Arthur in front of Botalf that he'd probably ask Kilgarrah. "There are several midwives who practice in Camelot. I think they have some herb knowledge between them." 

"Midwives?" exploded Arthur. "Merlin, are you honestly telling me that Gaius is the only qualified physician in Camelot?" 

"I'm telling you I don't know of any others, Arthur," said Merlin becoming annoyed. 

Frustrated, Arthur said, "How can Gaius be the only physician in Camelot? That doesn't make any sense." 

Merlin dropped his eyes to the floor, his shoulders hunching in discomfort, his voice falling off to nearly a whisper. "Most physicians also practice some form of magic." 

Arthur's hands landed on Merlin's shoulders, slamming him back into the wall. Merlin's head popped up in reaction and he got a good look at the anger sparking in Arthur's eyes. "Are you telling me," snarled Arthur, "that my Father has burnt up all the physicians in the land?" 

"You'd have to ask Gaius," Merlin responded firmly. "I only know that any time you round up those suspected of consorting with sorcerers, the name of anyone with herb knowledge is on the list. More than a few of those who've been released have then fled." 

Arthur's eyes searched Merlin's a moment and then he slammed out of the room into the waning sunlight. Merlin followed, more than a little concerned at the state of Arthur's temper. 

"Lancelot!" called Arthur, catching sight of Lancelot first of his knights. "Give me a bout, will you?" 

Lancelot hurried to get his sword and shield from where they'd been stored in the knights' bunkhouse and Merlin ran to fetch Arthur's. Arthur didn't even bother with the shield Merlin offered him. As soon as he had his sword in his hand, he laid into Lancelot furiously, driving him back so quickly that Lancelot had trouble keeping his feet while catching Arthur's blows on his shield. 

Suddenly, Leon intervened, catching Arthur's next blow on his shield and giving Lancelot time to recover. "Shield practice, Arthur?" 

Arthur didn't object, but took them both on, battering feverishly at them. Lancelot and Leon managed to stand their ground, but neither could do more than feint at Arthur, for which Merlin was glad, as the knights were using live steel and not practice swords. Merlin could see Elyan and Percival on the opposite side of the fighters, and both had their swords, shields, and helms ready. 

Gwaine stepped up next to Merlin, similarly prepared for battle. "What's this about?" 

"Arthur was disturbed to find out how few physicians there are in Camelot." 

"And how few are there?" asked Gwaine, his eyes tracking the battle. 

"One," replied Merlin. 

"We're going to have to stop letting you talk to Arthur," said Gwaine. 

Arthur managed to knock Lancelot to one knee. 

"Lancelot, out!" called Elyan, running forward to take his place. As he interposed his shield in front of the fallen knight, Lancelot struggled back to his feet and managed to back out of the fight. Lancelot dropped his sword and shield on the ground next to Percival, who diligently watched the skirmish for his turn. 

"It's not my fault, Gwaine," said Merlin, annoyed. 

"I know whose fault it is," said Gwaine, "but saying so is too easily counted as treason." 

Changing the subject, Merlin said, "I know what I'm going to be doing tonight." 

"What?" asked Gwaine as they watched Arthur bash both shields in front of him so quickly that neither Leon nor Elyan could do anything but block. 

"Putting a new edge on Arthur's sword," Merlin said resignedly. 

Gwaine chuckled. 

Arthur had been raining most of his blows from above, but a sudden low blow caught Elyan unprepared and blood abruptly flowed from his thigh. Elyan fell back, while Leon bowed under Arthur's barrage of blows. Both Gwaine and Percival ran in to support Leon. Lancelot grabbed Elyan from behind and ducked under his arm to help him into the knight's barracks. Merlin got the door open for them. Lancelot laid Elyan on the nearest bed and the injured knight rolled onto his side. 

"How bad is it?" asked Elyan, sickened by the sight of his own freely flowing blood. 

Lancelot pulled the edges of the severed cloth away from the gash. "It's fine," Lancelot said, trying to reassure his comrade. "Isn't it, Merlin?" 

Merlin pulled a sheet off one of the other beds and began wiping away blood, trying to get a good look. The gash was several inches long and bleeding freely. "It's only skin deep but it's parted all the way down to muscle. I don't think Arthur nicked the muscle though." Merlin folded the corner of the sheet and used it to apply pressure to the wound. 

"It's a good thing Arthur pulled the blow," said Elyan relieved. "Otherwise, he might have taken my leg clean off." 

"I'll bind it up as tight as I can," said Merlin, "but you're going to stay off of it for days to let it heal." 

"Arthur will want to go on tomorrow or the next day at the latest. Can I ride?" asked Elyan anxiously. 

"Not without opening it again," said Merlin. "As it is, it will bleed for hours and any bandage is going to rub as you move around." 

"I don't want to get left behind," Elyan said firmly. "It needs sewing, doesn't it?" 

Merlin grimaced at him. "I've never sewn up a wound before. I've held for Gaius enough times and he's made me practice the right kind of stitches and knots, but I've never actually done it." 

"There's no one else here I'd let do it. It will heal better if you sew it, won't it?" asked Elyan. 

"It should," said Merlin tentatively. 

"Then do it," ordered Elyan. 

Merlin had Lancelot keep pressure on the wound and ran to get Gaius' medicine bag and proper bandaging from the other barracks, noting the clanging of the sparing session as he passed and hoping there wouldn't be any more injuries. When Merlin got back, Elyan was keeping pressure on the injury and Lancelot was taking off Elyan's boots. 

Merlin lit every candle in the room for more light, which were fortunately about a dozen, and blocked open the door. The knights' barracks had several windows as well, but the light from the setting sun was quickly dying. 

Elyan slipped off his britches as quickly as he could and got pressure back on the gash. As he kicked them onto the wooden floor, he said, "Couldn't manage to sew these up after you've done me, could you, Merlin?" 

"Sure," Merlin said distractedly, as he got out silk thread and alcohol to clean the wound. 

"I'm joking, Merlin," said Elyan lying back down on his side. "I can do my own sewing - usually." 

"This is going to hurt," warned Merlin, beginning to clean the gash. 

Elyan winced a little but held still. "More than when my mother sewed up the other leg? You should see the scar. At least you're a journeyman physician." 

"I don't think physicians rank that way," said Merlin before directing Lancelot in how to hold the lips of the wound together. 

"Sorry. As a blacksmith, that's the easiest way for me to think of it." Elyan hissed as Merlin stabbed the needle into him, but kept talking just to distract himself. "Gaius is a master of his craft, of course. You've worked with him for years, so that would have made you an apprentice, but if he's giving you your own medicines and telling you to work medicine on your own, that would make you a journeyman." 

"You're not a blacksmith anymore," said Merlin absently, concentrating on his sewing; his strong fingers well able to pierce through the toughness of skin, but having some difficulty with the slickness of blood and perspiration. 

"Just because I'm a knight doesn't mean I couldn't make a horseshoe if I needed to, or a sword either, for that matter," winced Elyan. 

Arthur appeared in the open doorway with the other three knights behind him. Taking in the scene he asked, "Elyan are you all right?" 

"Merlin is taking care of me," Elyan assured him with an unintentional grimace. 

Coming closer and peering over Merlin's shoulder, Arthur said, "I didn't know you knew how to do that." 

"Knowing how and actually doing it are two different things, Arthur, so kindly get out of my light," said Merlin acerbically. 

Arthur shifted so he wasn't between Merlin and the door. "I'm sorry, Elyan. I hadn't realized I'd gotten you that badly." 

"As I was just telling Merlin, it's not the first time I've been sewn up." 

"Who sewed you up the first time?" 

"My mother." 

Arthur hung his head and closed his eyes, cringing. 

"That's not that unusual, Arthur," said Merlin, pulling through another stitch. 

"But it rather points up the problem," shouted Arthur, looking at his servant. 

"Arthur, please don't yell at Merlin while he's got a needle stuck through my skin," requested Elyan. 

"I'm sorry," said Arthur, lowering his voice. "I just think it's ridiculous that Camelot only has one physician in all the kingdom." 

"Two," smiled Elyan, pointing at Merlin. 

Arthur stared a Merlin a moment. "Great, one more reason that Father will want you dead." Turning on his heel, Arthur left the others to care for Elyan. 

Looking up, Merlin caught Leon's eyes and glanced sideways after Arthur. Leon nodded, understanding the concern in Merlin's eyes and followed the Prince. Merlin went back to his work, trying not to rush. 

***********************

They stayed at the garrison for an extra day to allow Merlin to tend his patient until the fever broke and to let Elyan rest; though he insisted he didn't need it. 

On the second morning, they left at first light. As soon as they reached the main road, Arthur pulled up, bringing the party to a stop. He reached over and grabbed the reins of Merlin's horse, bringing it close against his. "This is where we part company," he said in a hard voice. 

"What?" asked Merlin, stunned. "Arthur, have I done something wrong?" 

Arthur glared at him and Merlin tucked down his chin with a wounded look. Arthur untied a small purse he'd prepared ahead of time and handed it to Merlin. Merlin shook his head and wouldn't take it, so Arthur took his hand and put the purse in it. "Go home, Merlin. You're dismissed." Arthur motioned with his chin in the direction of the border. "There's the border, Ealdor isn't more than a couple of hours' ride. Take the horse, I don't care. There's probably enough in the purse for you to set up shop somewhere as a physician, if you like, but don't come back to Camelot." 

"Arthur you can't be serious!" exclaimed Leon. The other knights were voicing similar protests. 

"I can and I am," insisted Arthur. "Go!" he commanded, "Before I change my mind." 

Merlin glared at Arthur, understanding the threat, and turned his horse toward the border. He rode away without another word. 

Gwaine galloped after him and the others could see him catch up and Merlin stop to exchange some words with him no further away than the length of a jousting list. 

"Arthur, what is this about?" demanded Lancelot. 

"That's between Merlin and me," insisted Arthur. 

"Arthur, you're not being fair," said Elyan, his voice managing to be both soft and firm at the same instant. 

"This is best," said Arthur, not meeting his eyes. "Merlin shouldn't come back to Camelot with us. He doesn't belong here. He never did." 

Gwaine came galloping back, but Merlin trotted away. "Are we going then?" he asked without looking at Arthur. 

Arthur glanced after Merlin's retreating form. This had been far easier than he'd expected. The knights had protested more than Merlin had. Perhaps Merlin did want to leave and had only needed a shove. Arthur unhappily nudged his horse into a trot and the knights somberly fell in around him. 

"Just one thing you might take note of, Arthur," said Gwaine. 

"Do I really want to hear it?" asked Arthur irritably. 

"Probably not," said Gwaine wryly. "Most of the food we had with us is in Merlin's saddlebags." 

Arthur spurred his horse ahead just to avoid any further conversation. He didn't notice his knights dropping back one by one for a quiet word with Gwaine.


	2. Chapter 2

Morgana stood on a ridge in the shadow of a tree watching the road below and hoping that Aggravaine's information had been correct. Sixty mercenaries lay in hiding near to the road awaiting her order. Even knights of Camelot would be hard pressed to overcome ten to one odds, though in truth, she'd detailed only half of them for the knights and the other half for her hated brother. She ground her teeth in frustration with her own plan. She wanted Arthur slain, not taken, but she knew Uther too well. If Arthur died first, Uther would throw all his resources into hunting her and she wasn't ready for that, not with Morgause newly dead, not as alone and bereft as she'd become, as she wanted Uther to be. Taken, Arthur would become a valuable pawn. She'd just have to be satisfied with his humiliation for now. Later… later she'd kill him, bring Uther low, let him mourn his heir before she destroyed him utterly, before she remade Camelot into what Uther would despise: a kingdom where sorcery reigned. The people would deny her nothing this time. She would have their adulation even if it sprang from their terror. 

A warm breeze blew her long hair against the tree, waking her from her daydream as six suits of armor on horseback came into view, Arthur's blond head well in front, perfect for her attack. Her men wouldn't even have to separate him from the others. Morgana prepared to give the signal. Worry creased her brow, missing the seventh rider. Where was Merlin? Had he fallen behind? As much as Morgana considered him a vile barmpot, she knew better than to dismiss him as a threat. How one idiot menial could have upset so many well laid plans, she could not fathom beyond an indescribable amount of sheer good fortune, but if Arthur had managed to mislay his luck charm, so much the better. 

Her eyes scanned behind the party, staying her hand almost too long, the knights were well between her forces now. She waved a dark scarf and her men boiled out of the forest, screaming. The knights pulled their swords and began cutting down her forces as Morgana retrieved her horse from its' hiding place below her sentry station. 

Galloping down the incline, Morgana threw a spell of pure force at Arthur just as he pulled his bloody sword from one of her men, knocking him unconscious from his horse and into the arms of her men. They had him trussed and gagged and thrown back over his horse's back in a moment. Looking down the road, Morgana could see that her men were loosing to the knights badly. Already half lay on the ground and only two of the knights had been so much as unhorsed, but neither could they break through the crush to her and Arthur. Morgana didn't wait a moment but took hold of Arthur's reins and galloped away with him. Those of her men not detailed to exterminate the knights knew the way and could join her as quickly as they could get their own horses. She rode hard, scanning ahead for anything that could upset her plans, particularly one gormless manky worm of a servant. 

***********************

Merlin rode quickly over trails he remembered from boyhood on Lot's side of the border. He'd enjoyed a joyful though brief visit with his Mother, until he'd seen one of the images from his last experience in the Crystal Cave and became convinced that Arthur was in imminent danger. Now he was racing to rejoin the knights, not at the river where he'd told Gwaine he would meet them, but along the trail, hopefully before Morgana could attack. If she hadn't, he'd trail them, but stay well behind until he was needed. If she had… Merlin could only hope that Arthur and the knights would defeat her. 

Merlin splashed across a stream sparkling with the late afternoon sun back into Camelot's territory and galloped down the trail to rejoin the main road. Merlin might not have been an expert tracker, but it didn't take one to see that the main road had recently been a hotbed of activity. Many horses had passed this way in a hurry, for the tracks had dust thrown up behind them. Merlin turned to follow the way the tracks pointed, wishing for some way to tell the difference between the tracks of friend and foe. He hadn't gone more than half a league when some of the tracks turned off onto a small trail. Looking more closely, Merlin could see that these had been the furthest behind of the herd he was following. Merlin estimated that no less than three horses could have made those tracks, and possibly several more. Had Arthur pursued Morgana and a band of her henchman? Or was it the other way around? Thinking quickly, Merlin decided a smaller party chasing a larger was more likely Arthur and the knights. Morgana preferred overwhelming force and ran away when she first realized that the odds were no longer in her favor. 

Merlin turned his horse to follow the smaller party up a hill and through the trees. The animal track he was following wended its way between ancient oaks, slowing his progress as he had to watch for roots that might trip his horse. Light dappled it's way through the dense foliage for most of his passage, but suddenly blinded him as he came into a small clearing. He raised a hand to shield his eyes and found himself ducking the bright arc of a sword. 

"Percival, wait!" shouted Leon's voice, even as the sword yanked itself backwards out of Merlin's vision. 

Merlin grinned, looking around him to see Percival sitting above him in a tree, his sword in hand, and Leon up another one, holding his crossbow loosely. 

"We don't have time for this," said Leon crossly, swinging down from his perch. Mounted, Lancelot, Elyan, and Gwaine came from under the cover of the trees, Gwaine and Lancelot each leading a horse. Leon was up onto his in an instant and turned away, ignoring Merlin. 

Percival dropped his sword point first into the sod and then dropped out of his tree. Grabbing the sword up and sheathing it in one smooth motion, he slapped Merlin's leg as he passed and said, "Come on, no time to waste." He too wasted no time in getting mounted and the knights started single file down a track on the other side of the clearing, quickly picking up speed to a trot. 

"Where's Arthur?" called Merlin, following. 

Lancelot turned in his saddle for a moment to fill Merlin in, trusting his horse to follow its mates and not miss its footing. "Morgana took him. We took care of her men, and one of them was obliging enough to tell us where she was going, but we have to catch up." 

"How did Morgana get Arthur?" asked Merlin desperately. 

"We were too spread out," called Leon back from the lead. His voice was sharp, but his recriminations were all for himself. "Arthur was leading and too far ahead. We couldn't protect him." 

"But you said she took him? He's not dead?" asked Merlin anxiously. 

"They wouldn't have bothered to truss up a dead body," said Gwaine from just in front of Lancelot. "Morgana ran the minute she had him. Not sure why she wants him alive, but she does." 

Merlin was silent a moment, thinking. "How many men does she have with her?" he asked worriedly. 

"Hard to tell," said Lancelot. "I think we took care of thirty or so. A lot of them weren't that good with a sword, though Morgana may have kept the better ones for herself and trusted to numbers to mop us up. There were more horses in the woods, so more of them were planning to join her. As it was, maybe a score followed her down the road." 

"And where are they taking him?" asked Merlin pensively. 

"An old fort, there's still a good road to it, but it winds abominably," answered Lancelot. "Hopefully, this track will get us there before her." 

Leon brought the column to a halt and dismounted, tying up his horse and gesturing for the others to do the same. Keeping low, the knights mounted a hilltop and peered down at an old stone fort across a broad road below them. 

"Dam!" whispered Lancelot, "the walls are manned. I was hoping she might have left it empty." 

"If she gets in there, we'll have a devil of a time prying her out," whispered Gwaine. 

"Are you sure she's not already in there?" asked Percival. 

"No," said Leon, "the sentries are too attentive, they're waiting for her arrival. That and there are no horses in the bailey. There hasn't been time for them to get them all unsaddled and settled." 

"So we go for her on the road?" asked Elyan. "Her mercenaries we can handle, but what about her magic? And if she thinks she's loosing, she might well decide she's better off with Arthur dead if she can't hold him." 

Merlin worried his lip, wondering how the knights would react if he ended up in an arcane battle with Morgana. Not well, he thought, but then another idea occurred to him. Merlin turned and slid down the hill. 

"Where are you going?" demanded Leon. 

"To Arthur," said Merlin firmly. "I'll meet him on the road. I don't scare Morgana. If it's just me, she may let me join the party." 

"And if she doesn't? She may well kill you instantly," said Gwaine in concern. "Besides, what does that gain us?" 

Merlin smiled wryly. "Maybe you didn't know, but I've gotten out of the dungeon at Camelot more than once. I doubt the locks in that place are any more secure. If I'm with Arthur, I can get the door open and we can escape. We could go tonight after Morgana's asleep. That way we avoid her magic." 

"Sounds risky," said Gwaine. 

"So's an open assault," said Percival sourly. 

Lancelot looked at Merlin with a certain knowledge that Merlin was counting on his magic to protect him and a doubt that it could. "It might work," he allowed warily. "Especially if we stage a diversion away from the gate." 

Merlin nodded seriously and started for his horse. 

Percival grabbed his wrist stopping him. "What makes you think Morgana won't just kill you?" 

Merlin looked at Percival's hand, then up at his eyes. "Morgana has reason to want me dead. She's tried to kill me before, but she wants to do it slowly." 

"You're betting your life that Morgana will choose to torture you to death rather than kill you outright?" asked Percival incredulously. 

"No, I'm betting I can get away from her before all that. Come get us, will you?" asked Merlin. He yanked his wrist out of Percival's grasp and ran for his horse. Throwing himself into the saddle, he headed for a bend in the road where he wouldn't be visible to the watchers at the fort, but neither would anyone coming up the road be able to see him until they were within shouting distance. Of course that also meant that he'd be in range of Morgana's magic. 

Merlin could hear Morgana's party before he saw them, positioning himself in the center of the road facing the oncoming riders. He soothed his horse and took a deep breath for himself. 

Morgana reined in as she saw him, drawing the party to a stop within hailing distance. The mercenaries spread out around her, watching for an attack. 

Fury registered on Morgana's face as she hissed, "Merlin!" 

"Hello, Morgana, fancy meeting you here," Merlin smiled vapidly. 

"How could you possibly be here?" she demanded. 

Merlin avoided a direct reply, "I came to take care of Arthur." 

"And you think I'm just going to let you join the party and ride along?" she asked sarcastically. 

Cheerfully he replied, "If you don't kill me where I stand." 

"That would be too quick to be satisfying," she growled, biting off her words. "You came alone?" she asked slyly. 

Merlin rolled his eyes, "Oh, like anyone would listen to me." 

"I don't believe you." Addressing one of the mercenaries that rode beside her she commanded, "There must be knights somewhere in the woods. Find them and kill them." Five of the mercenaries rode off to search. 

"We're not far from shelter," purred Morgana, "by all means, Merlin, if you want to serve your precious prince, ride along beside me. It will amuse me to have you go willingly to your death." 

Merlin turned his horse in beside her, ignoring Arthur, who was clearly trying to yell at him through his gag. "Thank you, my Lady." 

"You will address me as a Queen," she rebuked him sharply. 

Merlin responded mildly, "We could compromise on Princess, as your father is still sitting on his throne, your Highness." 

"Highness will do," Morgana grated, "and my father will not sit long on his throne if I have my way." Morgana tossed her head and picked up their pace to a canter. 

"Taking Arthur won't win you the throne." 

"Everything in good time. Uther will shortly receive my demands. He'll acquiesce if he wants to retrieve his favorite child." 

"Which are?" 

She smiled haughtily. "To grant me equal status with Arthur as a legitimate heir and an estate of my own to support my needs." 

"Your dreams of conquest you mean?" 

"Now that you mention it, yes," she replied airily. 

"You really think Uther is that big a fool?" 

Morgana gloated. "To get Arthur back, Uther will do what I ask. I know him well enough to know his limits." 

"And he'll rescind it when you don't return Arthur." 

"Oh, but I'm going to return Arthur," Morgana said airily. "It takes time to gather forces, returning Arthur with protestations of my good will will give me the time I need. I'm not returning you though." Her eyes narrowed in thought. "Tell me why you would throw your life away to serve my worthless brother. Surely, you can't hope to rescue him?" 

"I can always hope, but in any case it is my duty." 

"We're old friends, are we not?" crooned Morgana, briefly brushing his arm with her fingertips. "You can give me a better answer than that." 

His jaw clenched slightly at her touch, but he managed not to pull away and replied mildly, "Of course we're old friends. In fact, I used to have quite the crush on you." 

"You're a serving boy. You would dare?" she demanded with derision. 

"Oh, I knew it was no use, but you're a beautiful woman, Highness. I couldn't help noticing. I used to bring you flowers, didn't I? Until Arthur made me stop." Ahead, awash in orange light from the slowly sinking sun, Merlin could see the stones of the old fort built into a hillside, only two storied, but walled and the wall seemed in good shape. "Of course, then you turned into an evil witch and disillusioned me as to all women." 

"I am so going to enjoy killing you," Morgana growled, "slowly." 

As they cantered through the portcullis into the fort's yard, Merlin took note of the mercenaries already posted there and their positions. Allowing for a few he couldn't see, he estimated another ten to add to the twenty Morgana had brought with her, though the five she'd sent after the knights hadn't returned yet, and hopefully wouldn't. There was a well in the middle of the yard and they pulled up next to it. 

Two of the mercenaries began to loosen the ropes tying Arthur to his horse. Merlin dismounted and tried to go to Arthur, but ran into Morgana's dagger held at the height of his chest. She smiled down at him as he froze. "If you would share your master's cell this night, you will first serve me. It's been a while since I had a servant." 

Merlin inclined his head, knowing he'd not fare well against these odds. "As your Highness wishes." Arthur struggled against the mercenaries now leading him away, but it was a lost battle. Merlin could do nothing more than note where they took him, though he was pleased to see that Arthur had plenty of fight left in him. 

Morgana dismounted on her own, then gestured with her dagger for Merlin to precede her through an archway and up a flight of stairs. "I know better than to trust you behind my back," she told him. 

The stairs terminated in an open space with arrow slits facing in three directions. From the forth direction ran a short hallway with two doorways to the right and one at the end. Morgana directed Merlin through the door at the end of the hall. Not as spacious as Morgana's chambers at the palace had been, the room was still a decent size and held a wide bed, a solid desk and a heavy wooden chair. An empty wooden tub sat near the fireplace, which had been lit, but it was a good thing the night was warm, because no glass hung in the arrow slits in the south facing wall. Undoubtedly, this had been the commander's quarters, now they were Morgana's. 

Two of the mercenaries had followed them into the room, one of them carrying Morgana's saddlebags, which he deposited by the bed. 

"Should I get you something to eat, Highness?" asked Merlin. 

"As if I'd allow you to serve me so much as a crust of bread." Morgana smiled maliciously, "Though I'll happily have you taste it for me." Looking longingly at the tub, she said wistfully, "It's been so long since I had a proper bath." Glancing up at Merlin, she commanded, "Fill it for me." 

"You could have one of your soldiers do that, Highness," he pointed out. 

"I could, but I want you to do it," she purred. Then her voice hardened again, "Don't dawdle and don't wander, I'll know if you do." 

Bewildered by being given that much freedom, Merlin returned to the well, grateful that at least there was a bucket there for hauling as well as for drawing the water. The stairs too were fewer than what he was used to, so the task went as quickly as such a task can. The first bucket he brought up went into a cauldron set over the fire to heat. Just as he was finishing drawing the water, a mercenary appeared with a plate of stew and bread for Morgana. She ordered the man back out, leaving them alone, then called Merlin to the desk where she sat to taste it for her, but wouldn't allow him to touch the plate. Instead, she made him kneel beside her and ladled a spoonful into his mouth. 

"It's good," he told her simply. 

Somehow, she looked disappointed and annoyed at his reaction. "Finish preparing my bath," she commanded. 

There was no glove by the fire, so Merlin ended up taking off his leather jacket and using that to get the hot kettle off the fire and tipped into the bath. "Your bath is prepared, Highness." 

"Good. Go to the door and kneel facing it," Morgana commanded. 

Confused again by her odd orders, but stepping to obey her as he replaced his jacket, Merlin asked, "May I ask why, Highness?" 

With a honeyed voice, she responded, "The lock is broken." Her voice hardened, "If you turn before I command you, you will die instantly." 

"Might be preferable to the slow death you have planned for me," quipped Merlin, but he stayed on his knees and did not turn. He could hear the rustle of her dress and then the splash of water. It took him a moment to realize that Morgana was actually taking her bath behind his back. Unsure of what to do, Merlin placed his hands against the door and leaned some weight into it, certain that if some idiot mercenary came through it without thinking, Morgana would blast them both. 

Morgana took her time over her bath. Merlin was relieved when he finally heard her getting out. Cloth rustled again. "Come here," Morgana commanded. 

"Are you sure?" asked Merlin, very much aware of the lack of a screen in the room. 

"Quite sure," she responded, annoyed. 

Merlin turned around cautiously to see Morgana again seated at the desk, arrayed in a silken blue robe, her white shift visible where the robe parted near her feet. He rose and paced cautiously toward her. 

"I want you to comb my hair," she said, touching the silver brush and comb set now laid out before her along with several other beauty items. 

"My hands are too rough for such work," he protested weakly. 

Malice colored her voice, "You'll have a lash in the morning for every time you pull tonight." 

Taking her hair in his hands, he realized that though she'd brushed it smooth on top, the underside was well knotted. He'd curry combed out horses' manes that had gotten bad and decided this would be little different. Sneaking a look at the arrow slits, he could see only the faintest light low to the horizon. This could take a while and the knights might well move before he could rejoin Arthur. He made one faint stab at getting out of it. "I thought you didn't trust me behind your back." 

"I don't, but I'm prepared to take you in hand if I need to." 

Realizing he had little choice he picked up the comb and began. This work went very slowly. The ends of her hair were wet from the bath, but she hadn't washed it. As gently as he could, he picked out the tangles. The water helped, but not much and he was up to half a dozen lashes by Morgana's count before he'd fairly begun. Noticing a small earthenware jar on the desk, he asked, "What's this?" as he reached for it. 

Morgana slapped his hand away. "Why?" she demanded. 

"I was only wondering if it was an oil. It might help me get the tangles out more gently." 

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And a contact poison would work as well as an ingested one." Her hands landed on his chest, pushing him back a step as she rose. "I can't believe I was so stupid as not to search you first." 

"Go ahead," he snapped, "I don't have anything on me." 

She demanded his jacket, which he removed and handed her. She felt through it for anything hidden, then discarded it on the floor. Next she fairly attacked him, feeling at his waist for anything hidden under his belt. He held his hands out from his sides and allowed her grasping. She looked up at him from under his chin and seemed infuriated by the mild expression on his face. Pushing him back a step again, Morgana demanded his boots, so he sat down on the floor and removed them. Morgana dropped to her knees, looked inside them and shook them out, then felt around at the tops of his socks, causing Merlin to jerk back in reflex, but she found nothing. 

Shaken, she stood up and, for a moment, Merlin thought she was going to blast him anyway. Then she appeared to change her mind and retook her seat. "Finish your task," she commanded. 

Merlin pulled his boots back on, forgetting to buckle them, and didn't bother to reclaim his jacket. Moving slowly so as not to alarm her again, Merlin rose and picked up the silver comb from the desk where he'd dropped it. 

Morgana snatched up the jar that had been the cause of her anxiety and handed it to him. He opened it and found it was indeed a rose scented oil. Dipping two fingers in, he worked some of it into one of the larger tangles. The tangle fell apart much more easily under the comb. Merlin began to have some hope that he'd get out of there before the knights came for Arthur. He only racked up another half a dozen lashes before he'd finished. 

Morgana began to run her fingers through her hair in a distracted manner. 

"Is my work satisfactory, Highness?" asked Merlin deferentially. 

"I want it washed," Morgana said in a whisper. Sardonically, she added, "but you certainly can't help me with that." 

Something about her seemed so pathetic in that moment that Merlin took pity on her and made an offer that he knew he shouldn't. "If your Highness would care to sit in your bath in your shift, I would be willing." 

Her mouth dropped open and she looked up at him with all the friendliness of a striking snake. 

Merlin bowed his head and put on his most passive expression. "The night is warm. I've no doubt your Highness would dry presently." 

"Very well," she said, to his surprise. She rose and slipped the robe from her shoulders, revealing the tight bodice of her shift. She handed him her robe and then waited for him to help her into the bath. 

He lay the robe neatly over the end of the bed and then held out his arm for her to steady herself against as she stepped into the water. Her skirt billowed about her legs as she sat down and she had to use both hands to get it tucked under her legs so it wouldn't float. 

Merlin grabbed a cake of soap from the desk and knelt at the side of the tub, leaving the soap by his knee. He rolled up his sleeves. Taking her head in his hands, he leaned her back toward the water, then cupped his hands to pour water over her hair. When the soapy water ran to close too her eyes, he tried to lean her back a little further, but she suddenly jerked away from him and sat up straight, batting rivulets off her forehead with her hands. 

"You're going to try to drown me!" she accused, turning furious eyes on him. 

Firmly, he answered her, "Morgana, I know your powers well enough to know what would happen if I tried. When I decide to kill you, I'll have a better plan than that." 

"Oh, when you decide to kill me," she said sarcastically, emphasizing the 'when.' 

"Do you want your hair washed or not?" he asked mildly. 

Again, she seemed irritated by his reaction. Merlin held out his hands to her. Morgana turned her face away and settled back into her bath. He soaped up his hands and slowly began to work the lather through her tresses, being cautious not to pull. She allowed him to take her by the shoulders and lean her back into the water. He slipped his left hand between her shoulder blades to support her, while he stroked the fingers of his right hand through her locks to loosen the bubbles. Her breath came heavily while he worked, as though she were struggling and he could feel the muscles of her back twitching against his hand. When the slickness of the soap disappeared from under his seeking fingers, he lifted Morgana back to a sitting position. She gasped and pinned him with a look of enmity. 

He rose to his feet and held out his hand to help her up as well. She took his hand and allowed him to lift her, fury burning her cheeks. Shaking with anger, she wrung out her tresses, then gathered her skirts to wring them out as well. She had her hem above the waterline when she realized Merlin was still watching her. "Turn your face away!" she snapped. 

He instantly dropped his eyes to stare at the floor. Bowing he backed up two steps, then decided he'd be better off if he made himself useful and went to build up the fire. Crouching on the hearth, he could hear Morgana splash her way out of the bath. Her bare footsteps sounded behind him and he could feel her hostile stare as she stopped close to his back. 

"Is there something further I can do for you, Highness?" he asked keeping his eyes on the flames. 

He could fairly hear her teeth grind as she commanded, "Fetch my chair close to the fire." 

Merlin could tell that she was slightly to his right, so he turned to his left as he rose, going around her with his back to her so that he missed seeing her at all. He kept his eyes down as he lifted the chair and brought it to her. 

"Oh, you can look!" she said in a fit of pique. 

He raised his eyes to hers, avoiding as much as possible looking at the thin linen of her shift clinging to her body, and noticed the aureole of her hair. "I take it you're going to want your hair combed out again?" he sighed. 

She touched her hair, frowned, and nodded. Spreading out her skirt, she sat down in the chair, her toes reaching toward the flames, while Merlin went for the comb and oil. Merlin set the rose oil on the mantle and once again went to work on Morgana's tangles. Having already worked through the problems once this evening, the combing went a lot easier, but Merlin was starting to get impatient and once again tugged too hard. 

"Lucky thirteen," Morgana sneered. 

Merlin took a breath and forced himself to slow down. "Do what you want with me, Highness, my only concern is for Arthur." 

"Perhaps I should have threatened to give my dear brother the lashes you earned then," she purred. 

Merlin set his jaw and resisted the urge to give her hair a good yank. "You wouldn't want to do that, Morgana. Arthur doesn't hate you yet, despite your betrayal." 

"Ah, but I loathe him. I want his hate, our foolish Father's favorite. Do you know how many people assumed I would marry Arthur? I feared that as much as I feared I might have magic. Father raised him to be his copy; an arrogant tyrant who makes war on what he fears. I might well choose to cozen my Father for a while, I've had so much practice at it, but I'll have none of that with Arthur. He is my rival and always has been. It has always been my place to dance attendance on him every bit as much as if I was his servant. Before I am done, Arthur will bow to me." Morgana turned cruel and cunning eyes to Merlin. "Don't worry, though. I'm perfectly content let you take your lashes - in front of my brother. I'll even let him tend your hurts," she laughed, "if he can give up his pride so far as to tend a servant. Personally, I think he'll let you languish. I'll kill you right before I send him back to Camelot. That insult should ensure his hate." 

Merlin was suddenly desperate to get to Arthur. He combed once more through Morgana's hair, but found no tangles. "I'm done here, Highness." He stepped to the side so he could face her and bowed. "May I be excused?" 

"And where do you plan to go?" she asked, amusement coloring her voice. 

"To Arthur." 

"And if I don't choose to send you to Arthur?" 

Merlin struggled to keep his voice mild. "You said that I could tend to Arthur, if I first tended to you. I've done as you asked, Highness." 

"Beg me," she smirked. 

Merlin dropped to his knees, as practiced at denying his pride as she was at cozening the King. "Please, Highness," he begged. 

She reached down and pulled up his chin. Her face close to his, she crooned maliciously, "You're pathetic. I should tie you in the yard like the dog you are. I would too, if I weren't worried you'd escape. By all means, go to my brother and lap up his insults. Perhaps that's why you like him, he treats you as you deserve." 

She flicked her fingers out from under his chin and Merlin scrambled back from her, fearing she'd revoke her permission even as Morgana called for the guard. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of her robe, still lying on the bed. He grabbed it up and threw it to her, fearing her embarrassment and how she might take it out. She yelped as she caught it almost as much with her face as with her hands. Her eyes burned such fury at him he feared them blazing molten. 

He turned away, bracing his own magic within him to take the blow he was certain was coming. To excuse his turning his back to her, he turned down the covers of her bed, hoping she would accept that as his reason and not take insult. The door opened admitting one of the mercenaries, all clothed in black with a bandana over his hair and a scarf covering his mouth and nose. 

"Lock Merlin up with Arthur," Morgana commanded seethingly, still fastening her robe at the waist. The skirt of the robe lay over the seat of the chair and she twitched it around her. Merlin bowed to her, snatched up his jacket from the floor and settled it across his shoulders. 

The mercenary roughly took Merlin by the arm and led him out, closing the door behind them. Merlin tamely followed where he was steered as the guard had orders to take him where he most wished to go. Just as they reached the bottom of the stairs, a familiar voice said quietly, "Merlin, it's me." 

Merlin didn't dare look at his captor. "Gwaine?" he asked softly. 

Only a soft chuckle answered him. 

Gwaine led Merlin to a door at the far end of the building, and opening it, pushed him in. Arthur and another black clad mercenary stood talking at the far side of a guard room strewn with tables and benches. A fire blazed in the hearth and smells that were still savory, if a bit overdone, emanated from the pot hanging over it. "Merlin!" called Arthur in a welcoming tone, advancing toward him. "Are you all right?" 

Merlin smiled, "I'm fine now, Arthur." 

The second mercenary pulled away his scarf, revealing Elyan's smiling face. "I thought you were supposed to get the door open, instead of leaving me to do it." 

"Sorry, got a bit tied up. Aren't you worried about the real mercenaries finding us here?" 

"Not really," replied Gwaine removing his scarf. "The fort is ours. You saw Lancelot, Leon, and Percival up on the wall. The biggest problem was not gutting each other." 

"Lancelot was brilliant," enthused Elyan. "When we saw you weren't with Arthur, he dressed up in one of the uniforms from the mercenaries who'd come after us and had Leon chase him through the gate. They never guessed that we had an assassin inside and as more uniforms became available, we came over the wall in the dark." 

"Much better plan than yours," Arthur said, whacking Merlin on the arm. "What have you been doing all this time? I was afraid Morgana was torturing you." 

"No more so than you do," chided Merlin, "though she has promised me thirteen lashes for the morning. Is there anything left in the stew pot?" he asked, nodding toward the fire and laying a hand on his empty stomach. "Morgana fed me a bite of hers, but I've had nothing else." 

"Sure. Let me get you some," said Elyan. Taking a plate from a cupboard, he knelt by the fire and ladled out a generous portion. As he handed the plate to Merlin, he asked, "What is that smell?" 

"What?" asked Merlin. 

"Your hand." 

Juggling his plate, Merlin smelled his hand and wrinkled his nose. "Rose oil, I've probably got it all over me." Gwaine snickered behind his hand and Arthur and Elyan exchanged bemused glances. Merlin took his plate to a table and started inhaling his dinner. 

Elyan stood before the fire. Tentatively he asked, "We saw you drawing water?" 

Merlin's eyes twinkled. "Apparently, Morgana has been perilously short of ladies' maids. She seemed to think I would do for the evening." He took another bite, and said through his food, "I spent most of the evening combing her hair." 

Gwaine looked like he'd bust from holding in his laughter. "You were making up the bed when I walked in." 

Merlin's spoon stopped in mid-air. "I make up Arthur's bed all the time. What's funny about that?" 

"And your boots are unbuckled, did you notice?" 

"Thanks," said Merlin, his brow wrinkling with the effort to figure out the joke. "I must have forgotten to buckle them after Morgana searched me for poison." 

Grinning, Gwaine took a couple of steps toward Merlin. "You must be terrible as a ladies' maid. Morgana was looking pretty mussed." 

"Well, she was still drying out from her bath." 

Incredulously, Gwaine asked, "You were helping Morgana with her bath?" 

Merlin shrugged. "She wanted her hair washed. She wore her shift." 

Gwaine's laughter finally burst from him. "Oh, is that how her skirt got so wrinkled?" 

Elyan slapped both hands over his own mouth. 

"Sir Gwaine!" Arthur rebuked him sharply. "You will kindly remember that whatever else Morgana is, she is still my sister." 

"Really, Arthur, you should have seen…" Gwaine chortled, but he broke off with a cough at Arthur's stern glare. "Sorry, Arthur." 

"Speaking of," drawled Merlin, his forbidding gaze on Gwaine as he was still trying to figure out the joke, "what are you going to do about Morgana, Arthur?" 

"What do you mean, 'what am I going to do about her'?" 

"Well, if the knights have finished off all of her men and she's alone, it's the perfect opportunity." 

"Right, so we capture her and take her back to Camelot." Arthur's voice turned sarcastic, "And how would you suggest we do that, Merlin? She has magic," in disgust he continued, "the most powerful magic I've ever seen." 

Merlin swallowed another bite of stew. "You're right, you won't take her, and even if you could, there isn't a cell in Camelot that will hold her." 

"So what are you suggesting?" Arthur seethed. 

Merlin glanced at Gwaine and Elyan. Gwaine crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture that clearly said, 'you're the one that opened your big mouth.' Merlin narrowed his eyes at Gwaine before addressing Arthur. Keeping his tone light, he said, "Morgana will soon be asleep. You really only have two choices. Leave her to find an empty garrison in the morning, or do what is traditionally done with traitors." 

Arthur's jaw dropped in shock. "Are you seriously suggesting that I murder Morgana in her sleep?" 

"It is about the only way you're likely to manage her execution," said Merlin seriously. 

Arthur began to pace. "In battle, yes, I could kill her, but to murder her in her sleep, no I can't do it." 

"In battle you won't get close enough," said Merlin shaking his head. 

Arthur froze and then turned back to Merlin looking as much lost as horrified. "I can't do it. She's my sister. What am I supposed to do? Start murdering all my relatives?" 

Merlin looked into his plate. "I could do it. If you want it done." 

"You?" asked Arthur in disbelief. "Merlin, have you ever actually killed anyone?" 

Merlin dropped his spoon with a clatter. Pursing his lips he demanded, "Arthur, do you truly pay me so little attention that you wouldn't know that?" 

"Merlin you get squeamish on a hunt," Arthur said wryly. 

Merlin's voice took on a strident note. "Yes, because you're out killing things for fun. Killing isn't fun for me, Arthur." 

"All right then, how many people have you killed?" asked Arthur, clearly disbelieving his servant. 

Merlin looked off into space and started counting on his fingers, but gave it up quickly. "More than I can count on my fingers." 

Arthur looked at him doubtfully. "You have, really?" 

"Really," said Merlin, tucking back into his dinner. 

"But never a woman," said Arthur quickly. 

"Yes, Arthur, a woman," snapped Merlin, becoming annoyed. "More than one, in fact." 

"I don't remember that ever happening," said Arthur suspiciously. 

"I can see that this is going to be a long conversation, when we finally get around to it," said Merlin, rolling his eyes. "The point is: do you want Morgana dead or left?" 

"If you could kill Morgana, then why didn't you do it, instead of spending hours combing her hair?" asked Arthur. 

"You're right," said Merlin, annoyed with himself now. "I did pass up a couple of perfectly good opportunities. I suppose that I don't really want to do it either. But she's not coming back, Arthur. She's not going to change her ways. She wants the throne and you're an obstacle in her path." 

Arthur turned his face away. "I couldn't let you do it anyway. My Father would never be able to accept that. It's got to be me or no one." Arthur took a breath, closed his eyes and bowed his head, thinking. Merlin finished his dinner before Arthur raised his eyes and said, "I can't do it. We leave her. Maybe waking up with all her forces dead will have some effect on her." 

"Yeah, it'll make her more vengeful," said Merlin wryly. At Arthur's look of disapproval, Merlin said respectfully, "As you command, Sire." 

"In that case, shall we get out of here?" asked Gwaine. "Leon took your horses out of here earlier, so all we really have to do is leave. Lancelot took my place to listen for her when I brought Merlin out. He'll let us know when she's asleep." 

"How's he going to do that?" Arthur snorted. "She doesn't exactly snore." 

"If you want me to go get him…" Gwaine offered. 

"She's a restless sleeper," said Arthur, shaking his head. "It wouldn't surprise me if she checked her forces during the night. No matter when we take the risk, the chances are good that we won't have much time to get down the road before she notices. I don't think she'd come after us by herself, but then I never would have thought she'd have herself crowned queen either." 

Elyan offered. "There was a trail, not far down the road. It traverses over to the high road. I doubt she'd find it in the dark by herself." 

"That's where we'll go then," said Arthur decisively. "Get Lancelot. I doubt waiting will do much good and if we have to fight her, I'd rather do it sooner than later." 

Gwaine pulled his scarf across his face and obeyed. Elyan grabbed up a blanket from a corner and approached Arthur, shaking it out. "Put this around you, Sire. You're the only one of us who might shine in the moonlight. It would make you the easiest target." 

Arthur shook his head. "If she catches us, it would be no more than I deserve." Glancing at Merlin he asked, "I should kill her, shouldn't I?" 

"You really should," he confirmed, "but I understand why you won't." 

Gwaine returned quickly with Lancelot and the five of them started across the darkened courtyard, the knights staying behind Arthur and Merlin to shield them somewhat. Clouds had rolled in obscuring the moon. Only torchlight illuminated the courtyard. Percival and Leon joined them at the gate, with a torch in each hand and they proceeded down the wide road. The horses were indeed just around the first bend, but with nothing but the light of the four torches to see by, Arthur determined that they'd have to lead them. 

"Let me take point, Arthur," said Merlin softly. "I can see." 

"Eyes like a cat, Merlin?" teased Arthur. 

Merlin stepped closer to his friend, his head bowed. He looked up from under his lashes and let his eyes glow. "I can see, Arthur," he repeated. 

Arthur started, but nodded his consent. The Prince took a torch from Percival and walked along beside Merlin, who indeed walked as though the night were as brightly lit as day. Arthur grew pensive as they kept an eye out for the trail they intended to take. A thought fluttered at the edge of his consciousness like a moth. He glanced up from carefully watching his horse's footing to see a smile lighting Merlin's face and the thought suddenly fluttered into focus. "Merlin, didn't I dismiss you this morning?" 

"No," replied Merlin, as though he hadn't a care in the world. 

Arthur's lip quirked with the effort of his thoughts. "I distinctly remember telling you to go home." 

"Yes," agreed Merlin. "You gave me leave to visit my Mother." 

"No I didn't," said Arthur, shaking his head as if to clear it. 

"That's what I heard," claimed Gwaine. 

"Yes, wasn't Merlin supposed to meet us at the river?" asked Elyan. 

"Absolutely," chimed in Lancelot. 

Arthur frowned, wondering why the knights would take Merlin's part. Clearly, they didn't want him to leave. Arthur silently questioned if that could be the spell's influence, or if Merlin was influencing them in some way himself. 

"There," said Merlin pointing to the trail they were looking for. He turned his horse onto it, forcing Arthur to drop back, as the trail was none too generous for a man to walk, much less a horse, and leaving him to troubled thoughts. They walked along in this way for a couple of hours. One by one the torches went out, but Arthur didn't call a halt and the knights' complaints were not the sort that expected an answer. Arthur's thoughts crashed and rolled like the sea in a spate at the thought of tamely following a sorcerer through a darkened wood. Mentally, he abraded himself for being such a fool and then wondered how much the spell could be influencing him. 

Arthur heard Merlin call out, "Hello?" as the dark shadow that was Merlin's horse stepped aside, revealing a wide clearing and a small hut illuminated by nothing more than starlight. As the knights filed into the clearing, Merlin tried the door of the hut and declared it empty. 

"We can stay here until morning then," said Arthur. 

The knights tied their tired horses where they could crop grass and Merlin started a fire in the hut's fireplace. Arthur noticed that he used flint to start it and wondered if he needed to. 

"Half to sleep and half to watch," ordered Arthur. "Lancelot, Percival, take first watch with me. No watch for you, Merlin. That's a knight's duty." Merlin looked shocked at this declaration, but Arthur's stare stopped him from protesting. "As soon as it's light, we head for Camelot as fast as we can." 

Those who were assigned to sleep were soon rolled up in their blankets. Arthur put his back up against a tree, ostensibly to keep watch, but so embroiled in his own thoughts that he knew he'd have to depend on Lancelot and Percival. 


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin felt a tug, almost as if he'd been grabbed inside an enveloping blanket, and found himself on his feet in the dream version of Nimueh's spell staring into Arthur's eyes. 

"Merlin?" questioned Arthur. 

"Yes, I'm here," answered Merlin, surprised to be called back into the dream. 

Arthur turned away. "I know you warned me about talking about the spell inside the spell itself, but it was the only way I could think of to have this conversation privately enough." 

"The knights would give us privacy, if that's what you need, Arthur," said Merlin gently, stepping forward to lay a hand on Arthur's arm. 

Arthur shrugged him off and stepped away again. "I've thought this through as much as I can on my own. You're the last person I should be discussing it with and the only one I can." Arthur took a breath and Merlin started to say something reassuring, but Arthur held up a hand to stop him. "I had a reason why I demanded you give me a loyalty oath." 

Merlin's bounced from side to side as though scanning the memory. "So you could insist I tell you the truth." 

Arthur tilted his head in acknowledgement. "All right, two reasons. The other being so I could give you an oath in return." Arthur began to pace. "You said the spell was like a loyalty oath, but such an oath can't go only one way. It's like a chain. You can't bind one person to another without binding that other as well. If the spell claims your loyalty for me, then I owe you something in return." 

"You did, didn't you?" asked Merlin, but his distraction showed up in his voice. He couldn't help thinking about what Arthur had just said in terms of the spell. 

"Exactly," said Arthur, his mind on his own point. "I gave you my word that I would treat you with justice and mercy. The problem is, I don't know how to do that!" He stopped directly in front of Merlin, his eyes wild with indecision. 

"What?" asked Merlin, cuing back into the conversation. 

"By the laws of Camelot, I should have already had you executed. I've taken oaths to enforce those laws. I can't just let a sorcerer run around loose. I thought a banishment might be acceptable, but you won't even stay gone. Are you really so tied to me that you can't even stay gone when I order it?" 

Merlin cringed. "Yes, I think I am." 

Appalled, Arthur said, "Father banished Gwaine. He didn't come racing back." 

"The knights aren't tied as tightly as I am. Besides, Gwaine joined us for two quests while he was banished. I don't think he could stay gone knowing you were in trouble. I know I can't." 

Arthur closed his eyes. "And there is my problem. How can it be just to execute you, if you're bound so tightly to serve me by a spell that the King… commissioned?" 

"If you think I'm going to argue for my own execution, Arthur…" 

"Which is exactly why I shouldn't be talking to you about this." Arthur held his head in his hands. "I feel like I'm trapped in a waking nightmare. Anything I do is bound to be wrong." 

"Arthur, look at me," said Merlin, taking hold of Arthur's wrists to pull his hands away from his face. Arthur allowed him to do so and showed haunted eyes to his friend. "I need you to tell me how strongly you are bound." 

"What?" asked Arthur, confused. 

"You just said it. You can't bind one person to another without binding the other as well, and you're bound to twenty-one of us. I noticed earlier, you were having trouble remembering that you'd sent me away. That has got to be the spell's influence." 

Arthur stared at Merlin a moment. "Father's trapped me in hell," he cried, sinking to his knees. 

Merlin followed him to the floor and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to support him. "Now, Arthur it doesn't have to be," Merlin cozened. "You like all of the knights, don't you? And we get on, most of the time, don't we?" 

Arthur made a face at him. 

Merlin tried reason. "Look, I know Uther has Lords he doesn't like much, but he puts up with them. Just keep thinking of the spell the way you have been, as a loyalty oath. If you can just figure out our duties to you and yours to us, then the whole thing's manageable, isn't it?" 

"Same problem," snapped Arthur. "The law says you have to die." 

"When?" asked Merlin smartly. 

"Executions are usually pretty immediate," said Arthur, pulling away from Merlin's embrace. "Otherwise, they wouldn't be much of a deterrent." 

"But not always," said Merlin, dropping his arm. "Uther's been known to hang on to a prisoner for a long time when he wants to. You know I can't get away from you." 

Arthur's mouth dropped open. "That's not the same thing. Uther might keep a man sentenced to death in a cell for a while, but you're running around loose." 

"But not free, Arthur. And I'm running around working for you." 

Arthur shivered. "That sounds like having one law for me and another for everyone else." 

"It is a special case, Arthur." 

"Every case is a special case." 

"Then judge this one on it's merits. Take your own feelings out of it. Look at it… look at it as if this were a case that happened a hundred years ago." 

"Hundreds of years ago the law was different. Magic wasn't illegal." 

Merlin bit his lip. "No, it wasn't, was it? Uther made magic illegal. Arthur, when you took your oath, didn't you promise to enforce the ancient laws of Camelot?" 

Arthur snorted, "I promised to enforce the laws of Camelot. I don't think their age has anything to do with it." 

"But if Uther made magic illegal and he tied me to you, he's really put you in a position where you can't obey him, hasn't he?" 

"In which case, I ought to ask him what he wants me to do about it and I think we both know where that conversation would end up." Merlin cringed at the idea, but Arthur grew thoughtful. "On the other hand, maybe I should ask him about it." 

Merlin's voice grew strident, "You tried that once already and Uther tried to burn me at the stake." 

"But he's promised not to prosecute any of my men except through me." 

"I'm pretty sure he meant the knights." 

"He promised all of the men called by the spell. That includes you." 

"Arthur, that is a terrible idea." 

"It's the only idea that makes sense. Father caused this impasse, he'll have to clear it." 

"You're going to get me killed!" 

Arthur patted Merlin on the shoulder. "Father's promise is enough for me to protect you." 

"Then who's going to protect you? Conspiring with a sorcerer is enough to get you killed." 

"Father's not going to kill me. He might throw me in the dungeon for a little while, but he's not likely to kill me." 

"Arthur, please don't do this," begged Merlin. 

Arthur rose to his feet, confident now that he'd decided on a course of action. "Trust me, Merlin. I know how to handle my Father." 

*********************

"Arthur!" Uther greeted his son warmly, hugging him, though his smile was slightly strained. 

Arthur had arrived home just in time to join his Father for dinner, though he'd not had much time to change. The smell of the roasted pig lying on the sideboard made his mouth water as he slapped his Father's back, rather surprised at Uther's uncharacteristic display of affection. 

As the two men released each other, Uther noticed Merlin moving Arthur's chair from the foot of the table to the right of Uther's seat. He frowned at the servant. 

Arthur explained, "I'd prefer not to yell across the length of the table tonight, Sire, if you've no objections." 

"Very well," said Uther, his enthusiasm somewhat dampened. They sat down and allowed dinner to be served. Uther watched his son apprehensively and Arthur returned his gaze warily. As soon as dinner had been placed before them, Arthur dismissed the palace attendant who'd served them. The man glanced at Uther for confirmation and Uther waved him out, also ordering the doors closed. 

"I suppose you had a reason for wanting privacy?" asked Uther, ignoring his food, but taking a drink from his goblet. 

"I do, Father," said Arthur gravely. "Thank you for granting it to me so readily." 

"You have no problem speaking in front of your own servant however," said Uther with an annoyed glance behind Arthur's chair. 

"Merlin already knows the subject, though, I believe I could manage to pour out for both of us if you'd rather he left," Arthur said in a conciliatory tone. 

"You'll want to talk about your sister, I expect," choked Uther. 

"That's certainly a topic of interest," affirmed Arthur, though a slight surprise showed in his eyes. 

"You seem to have suffered no hurt at her hands." 

"That's because my knights rescued me fairly quickly." 

"They should never have lost you in the first place," said Uther sharply. 

"Morgana did have about sixty mercenaries plus her own magic. I think my knights did very well to dispatch them all in a few hours time without loosing a man on our side," said Arthur, a touch of ire creeping into his voice. 

"And Morgana?" asked Uther anxiously. 

"I couldn't bring myself to kill her." Arthur looked down at his plate, his color rising. "We left her asleep to find her men dead in the morning." 

Uther blew out a breath in relief. "That's good," he said nodding, then quickly continued, "Arthur, I've decided to make peace with your sister." 

Looking up sharply Arthur asked in disbelief, "You what?" 

"I don't expect you to understand," said Uther, shifting uncomfortably. "I've decided to grant… some… of her requests. An estate of her own and I intend to acknowledge her as my daughter, though not as a legitimate heir. That is your right alone." 

Arthur stared at his Father, wide eyed and open mouthed. When he regained his voice he bellowed, "Father, you accused me of trying to usurp you when I stole Merlin out of the dungeon and kept him in custody until we could work out our differences. Morgana walked an undead army into Camelot, threw you in the dungeon, and had herself crowned Queen. How can you make peace with that?" 

"Perhaps you have not noticed, Arthur," said Uther, struggling to keep his voice reasonable, "but I have been trying to be accommodating to you as well." 

Arthur strove to keep his voice even. "Father, you and I have had some differences of opinion lately, but we share the same goals to keep Camelot safe and prosperous. Morgana wants to kill us both so she can rule for her own benefit." 

"Did she tell you that?" asked Uther in surprise. 

"She didn't have to tell me that, she made a great enough effort to make it happen." 

Uther would not meet his son's eyes. "She did promise to let you go if I agreed to her terms. I feel certain she would have for the compromise I was prepared to offer." 

"That's not what I was talking about, Father, or is your memory so short?" 

"My memory is just fine," growled Uther. "I would know what my daughter said about me in your hearing." 

"She said," grated Arthur, "that you would not rule for long and she ordered Merlin to address her as a Queen." 

The King glanced up at Merlin, who quickly bowed his head, avoiding the King's gaze. "He was probably being disrespectful… again." 

Arthur struck the table in exasperation. "Merlin," he called. 

Merlin moved up on Arthur's right, as far as he could justify from the King while still being where Arthur could see him. "My Lord?" he asked humbly. 

Arthur looked at the ceiling. "You spent more time with Morgana than I did, what did she say about my Father?" 

Merlin looked at his boots and shook his head. "I would not speak out of turn, my Lord." 

Uther snorted, "That would be a first. Answer as you're asked." 

Without looking up, Merlin answered, "She called you a fool, Sire. She said she'd cozen what she wanted out of you, including the means to build an army to conquer Camelot." 

Uther's face turned bright red. "Out!" he ordered, "and never speak of this again." 

Merlin set the pitcher on the table and fled as quickly as decorum allowed. 

Arthur watched Merlin go, picked up his fork, and finally started to eat his already well cooled dinner. "What about the fact that Morgana is a sorcerer?" he grumbled through his first bite. 

"She will have to renounce magic, of course," said Uther, also beginning on his meal. "Until she does, she will not be allowed back within the city." 

"Do you expect she'll stay on the estate you give her?" asked Arthur, incredulously. 

"That is what I have ordered," affirmed Uther. 

Arthur dropped his fork, once again shocked at his Father's words. "You know she won't obey you." 

Uther pinned him with a stern gaze. "Would you have me execute my daughter without giving her a chance to repent her crimes?" 

Arthur lamented, "Father, this isn't giving her a chance to repent, it's as much as giving her an exemption from the law." 

"That is within my power," said Uther lowering his eyes and taking another bite. 

"You're actually considering it?" demanded Arthur. 

The stern gaze was back. "You don't have children of your own, Arthur. Perhaps one day you will understand." 

Arthur leaned back in his chair and forced himself to breathe. "And if I chose to take up with sorcery, would you make the same exception for me?" 

"You are not a sorcerer!" retorted Uther, aghast at the idea. 

"No, I am not," Arthur assured him firmly, "but you've just granted Morgana the right to a weapon I do not have. How am I to defend myself, and Camelot, the next time she attempts to seize the throne?" 

"Gaius said Merlin was your protector against magic," Uther's voice dripped with derision at the mention of the servant's name. "Perhaps you'll just have to be satisfied with him." 

Coolly, Arthur answered, "Thank you, Father, you've just set my mind at ease greatly." 

They finished their dinner in a chilly silence. Arthur dropped his fork and said as he swallowed his last bite. "There is one more matter I wish to take up with you Father; the knights." The Prince had mentally run through a list of topics he needed to speak to his Father about, including the need for more physicians, but had decided the need for more knights was the most urgent. 

"You mean your knights," grumbled Uther. 

"I mean the Knights of Camelot," said Arthur with some asperity. "Three years ago with we had a hundred and forty seven knights. We've suffered so many battles we're now down to ninety-one, including my common born knights, whether you are inclined to include them or not." 

"Eighty-seven really then," snapped Uther. 

It took an act of will for Arthur to keep his seat. 

"I've been considering this," said Uther, regaining his confidence. "And I've already acted to alleviate the problem. There are other knights within the realm. I've called them in. Within days, Camelot will be back up to full strength." 

Arthur's jaw dropped open. "Father most of the knights you're talking about have tested to become knights of Camelot and failed. Either that or they've retired to their estates having served honorably, but are no longer young men." 

"I've suspended the test. Older men have experience, and the others could improve with more training," insisted Uther. 

"You want me to defend Camelot with old men and incompetents?" demanded Arthur. 

"And what would you do? If you think you know so much better, give me an option," said Uther angrily. 

Arthur took a breath, already knowing his Father's reaction to his suggestion. "I want to test some of the arms men to advance to a knighthood." 

Uther couldn't speak for a moment and finally got his voice going by banging his fist on the table. "That's ridiculous!" he yelled. "How can the knights trust each other if they don't know where they come from?" 

"They come from Camelot!" answered Arthur. "I'd only allow those that have served faithfully for at least five years to test. If they've proven their loyalty and their worth in battle, that's better than having someone by me that I'll have to cover for because they're likely to fail in combat." 

Uther scrapped his chair angrily away from the table. Standing up and shaking a finger at Arthur, he said, "You do not understand. You've never understood the importance of birth and breeding. The populace are to be protected, yes, but they are not your friends and certainly not your equals." 

Arthur also stood. "I take those to be my equals who prove themselves to be so, despite their birth. And I don't consider all of those of noble birth to be my equals." 

Uther squared his shoulders. "You'd better revise that attitude if you hope to someday be an effective King." His eyes glanced from Arthur to the door in a clear signal of dismissal. 

Arthur shook with the effort to contain his rage, but bowed accepting his King's will. 

*********************

Arthur slammed angrily into his room. Merlin jumped up, spilling the armor he'd been polishing out of his lap, fear written across his face and showing in the hunch of his shoulders. 

Arthur exploded, "My Father wants to make peace with Morgana!" 

"I heard that part," said Merlin, his eyes round with terror. 

Through gritted teeth Arthur asked, "Did you hear that he's thinking about excepting her from the law against being a sorcerer?" 

Merlin whistled. "No, didn't hear that part." 

Arthur began to pace and rant. "What can he be thinking? I admit, I couldn't kill her because I still care about her, no matter what she's done, but to simply forgive her without any sign of remorse on her part is ludicrous. He might just as well make her his heir and jump off the ramparts. At least it would save Camelot a civil war." Eyes wild and hands waving, Arthur stopped in front of Merlin. "Well, say something!" 

"What about me, Arthur?" asked Merlin pleadingly. 

"What about you?" demanded Arthur acerbically. 

Merlin's voice dropped to a whisper. "Did you tell him?" 

"Oh," said Arthur, finally taking in something other than his own roiling thoughts. "No." 

Merlin breathed a heavy sigh of relief. 

Arthur went back to pacing. "I basically asked him if I could have a sorcerer if Morgana can be one. Oh, you should have seen his reaction to that. He wouldn't have jumped higher if I'd jabbed him with a hot poker. Then he said I'd just have to be satisfied with you. Well, I wasn't going to explain then for fear he'd take it back. This way I sort of have permission, even if he didn't know what he was giving permission for." 

Confusion showed in Merlin's storm blue eyes. "That doesn't make any sense, Arthur. Why would the King have said that if he doesn't know?" 

Arthur stopped across the room from Merlin and looked at his servant over his shoulder. "Haven't you talked to Gaius?" 

Bewildered, Merlin said, "Arthur, I haven't seen Gaius for more than a moment since I was arrested." 

Arthur turned toward Merlin. "It was clearly his idea. He certainly didn't give me much of a hint. He was lucky I twigged onto it as quickly as I did." 

"Well, I'm not. Are you finally going to explain something or may I be excused to go ask Gaius?" 

Arthur frowned. "Gaius lumped you in with the knights called by the spell." 

Startled, Merlin asked, "It was Gaius' idea I should train as a knight?" 

Arthur nodded. "Father wasn't buying it though. That's when Gaius told both of us that you were my protector against magic, but he said that you were doing it without using magic yourself. What I don't understand is why Father would know about the knights, but not know the spell called for a sorcerer." 

Merlin gave him a smile that was more cringe. 

Arthur advanced on him. "Merlin," he said warningly, "what aren't you telling me?" 

"Oh, don't make me tell you, Arthur," said Merlin desperately. "I've only got guesses anyway, and not all of them are even mine." 

Arthur scowled. "Fine. For now. But I'm going to want answers out of you eventually, Merlin." 

Merlin nodded acknowledgement but worried at his lip a moment. "Actually, Arthur, there's something else I've been wondering about. How is it that Morgana can hire dozens of mercenaries, but can't hire a ladies' maid?" 

Arthur shook his head, drawing his lip up in a grimace. "I don't know. Doesn't make much sense, does it?" 

"I think I might have figured it out," said Merlin hesitantly, "but you're not going to like it." 

"I'm already regretting I left her alive. If you have more bad news, by all means, pile it on," Arthur said sourly. 

"Someone else is paying her bills. Someone who might see a request for a ladies' maid as a weakness?" 

"Just what I need, allies for Morgana." Arthur eyed his servant speculatively. "Just how powerful a sorcerer are you anyway? From what you've told me, you've defeated Morgana before, but you don't necessarily use magic to do it." 

Merlin ducked his head and squirmed uncomfortably. "It's difficult for me to gauge. There aren't other sorcerers around for me to compare to. And I just do what seems best when it comes to Morgana, or anything else I need to defend against. I don't go out looking for fights." 

Arthur's stare became piercing. Slowly he said, "There are advantages and disadvantages to both attacking and defending. Perhaps training you as a knight isn't such a bad idea. Bashing about with a sword isn't all there is to being a knight. Learning to read your opponent and choose the best strategies is part of it. It sounds like we're going to have to make the most of whatever defenses we have, including what little magic you might have." 

Merlin cringed. "I'm not totally useless, Arthur." 

"Did I say you were?" asked Arthur, giving Merlin a playful shove, but as he turned away he wondered about the dangers of magic, and not just Morgana's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are multiple ways that this series can be broken up. It can be broken up into the 13 parts I have planned (that’s a little tentative, but I’m pretty sure). It can also be broken up into a trilogy with Parts 1-4 comprising Book 1, Parts 5-8 comprising Book 2, and Parts 9-13 comprising Book 3.
> 
> Also, you may have noticed that this was the first part not to carry the Magic Reveal tag. But just because Arthur knows doesn’t mean there aren’t more revelations to come. At this writing Parts 6, 7, and 11 all carry the Magic Reveal tag and there may be one more. That has a lot to do with how the three Books are broken up.
> 
> So this is Not The End, but I am going to take a break from posting to concentrate on the writing. I plan on posting Book 2 in the spring (2014). I’m pretty confident about posting it then because it’s already in draft form but it needs a good bit of editing yet. Book 3 is barely begun and I want to get a sizable portion of that written before I post Book 2. I think it’s good to set a work aside for a while because it takes some separation to be able to go back and see what you’ve missed. If you’ve enjoyed the series so far, I hope you’ll check back in a few months for the next part. Until then, keep smiling. :-)
> 
> 


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